I was good tired, and thankful. Sunkissed, receiving the blessings from being out in creation, etc, etc. As I drove back down the mountain to take my dad home and get to work in the bakery, the exhaustion felt different. I stopped to get some fuel for the truck and fuel for the humans. All of a sudden, every cell in my body seemed to cry out in agony. When we got back to Mom and Dad's house, I was shivering with cold, alternating with hot, stinging waves. So strange.
I drove myself home, fell into bed and barely got out for 36 hours. It felt like I would never walk again, let alone work hard in the vineyard! The girls brought me tea, glasses of water. I tossed and turned, flipped and flopped, moaned and groaned.
How deliciously melodramatic, says she, sarcastically!
I was pretty miserable. And thought about how grateful I hope to be during the moments of excellent health. Which is how my life typically is, excellent health, an occasional headache, a cold every once in awhile, but otherwise just fine, thank you.
Too sick to read. Too sick to write. Too sick to enjoy tv.
What a waste, I thought! And loss of work income, since you have to be able to stand upright, and not share germs in the food industry, at least in theory.
Theo called Rose and instructed her to rub my feet with coconut oil and put sliced onions on them. Eww! I wanted to say no, but Rose was so diligently following instructions, I had to submit to the doctoring. Have to say that my room smelled a bit like a pot roast, about to go in the oven...She and Nora brought me drinks. Another friend left chicken soup on the porch which the girls warmed for me. Mom and Dad ran girls around wherever they needed to go, and fed Thomas. Another friend brought me essential oils to rub on my feet (that smell a heck of a lot better than onions, by the way, haha). Another deposited a dish of steaming hot mashed potatoes to serve as cozy comfort.
How loved! How kind are the people in my village. I feel much better today. Able to read a book, wash some sheets and dishes, stand upright for a little while.
I wish for all beings to know they are loved. And to be surrounded by a village, whether large or small, that will lovingly care for each others' needs.
After tossing and turning most of last night, I am hopeful this evening will be peaceful, calm, and filled with deep sleep and nice dreams.
As I lay in bed, so uncomfortable, I thought about Maggie when I went to India back in 2009. She had come down with a cold, and it was terribly hard for me to leave her as my boarding time arrived. I figured that she would be okay, we all suffer from colds now and again. When I got back, she told me her cold turned into pneumonia, and she felt so lonely and sick, when Philip had to care for the little ones, go to work, and tend my farm chores. I was so sad for her, and yet, of course she got through the sick spell, our friend and family doctor treated her and she was soon brand new. But, oh, how lonely she was, during those miserable, surreal hours.
Many people have to endure significant pain and illness, and do it alone. That makes me sad. I hope I will be awake and mindful enough to help when I can, and that others also will see how valuable their offerings are. Soup. Mashed potatoes, home remedy advice, rides, love. Doesn't have to be a big deal. Just listen to your gut, follow the instinct. I have this feeling that each of us has some special gift to offer, if we humble ourselves and just do it.
On another note, it certainly got cold last night! High seventies plummeted to the teens. Never fear, warm weather is near. In another day or two we will return to the sixties and seventies. Perhaps I should take the hens out of my yard and put them back into their yard? They have been scratching happily for bugs, grass, whatever they could find. Remember, we do live in Texas and it is time to think about planting onions and greens. Perhaps this weekend I will start some plant babies in the greenhouse. Seed packets are catching my eye, I think I better pay attention.
On another note, feeling sick can often feel like depression. When lying in bed, miserable, it is quite easy to think one's world is horrible, one is a terrible friend, daughter, mother, worker, business owner. Isn't that silly? Is it just me?
I continue to practice telling myself that just because I feel something doesn't make it true.
Well, I am rambling with no direction. I think I will shut this twenty minute session down and go pull out the seed packets.